{"id":136974,"date":"2022-03-02T14:31:02","date_gmt":"2022-03-02T13:31:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.erasmusmagazine.nl\/en\/?p=136974"},"modified":"2025-12-19T11:26:09","modified_gmt":"2025-12-19T10:26:09","slug":"dirksland","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.erasmusmagazine.nl\/en\/2022\/03\/02\/dirksland\/","title":{"rendered":"Dirksland"},"content":{"rendered":"

On the Sunday morning before this part of my foundation programme was about to begin, once I had left the Pernisse greenhouse sky that flamed above the town\u2019s industrial minarets behind me, I travelled through the Dutch provincial dark to Dirksland, where I was to stay.<\/p>\n

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After you pass a whole series of companies and car dealerships, the village reveals itself to you quite picturesquely. The Van Weel-Bethesda Hospital has been built in so tightly that its visitors don\u2019t get to see it until the very last turn-off in the village.<\/p>\n

The first thing that drew my eye when I entered the hospital was Psalm 39:8, which had been written on the wall in pretty Gothic font. \u201cAnd now, o Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in You.\u201d As a non-patient, I thought it was an impressive statement of an ideology, rather than a reflection.<\/p>\n

The secretary sat proudly in her chair, and the moment I was given the key to the place where I was to stay was an intimate and formal occasion. A warm light lit the situation just about well enough for me to realise that the people of Dirksland are proud.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat specialty do you intend to choose?\u201d the senior surgeon asked me. \u201cPsychiatry,\u201d I answered, more determined than I had in mind. \u201cIt takes a more holistic approach.\u201d The senior surgeon\u2019s face stayed bland and emotionless. He went on typing with just his two index fingers, clumsily and venerably. \u201cI wanted to become a psychiatrist myself,\u201d he said, \u201cuntil I did the psychiatry part of the foundation programme.\u201d I stopped wanting to be a psychiatrist on the spot.<\/p>\n

I had just firmly applied proper tension to two hooks sitting in a wound that was the gateway to a hip needing replacement when I asked: \u201cBy the way, how did this hospital come into being?\u201d The orthopaedic surgeon looked at me. \u201cWhat, you think small hospitals don\u2019t serve a purpose? Hospitals such as the ones in Gouda or Hengelo? No, I\u2019m serious. I mean it. You probably want all medical services to be centralised, just like [Minister for Public Health] Kuipers.\u201d I was so stunned I relaxed my grip on the hooks. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean it that way. I was just wondering how this hospital first came to be opened.\u201d But the damage had already been done.<\/p>\n

The patient had thickened skin in the palm of her hand, which caused her to enter the examination room with an index finger that curved and hurt. Her eyes were full of suspicion. She pulled back her hand. Every question I asked was a question too many. However, by now I understood what was going on, so I said with a smile, \u201cThere\u2019s no need for us to perform surgery on your hand, ma\u2019am. We can give you painkillers, as well. The choice is up to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

One evening I climbed the roof of my home in Dirksland. I watched the people in their small Dirksland homes, who were all having dinner while vacantly staring at their TV sets. The wind was fierce. Sand was whooshing by. Roof tiles were being ripped from the roofs and thrown through my neighbours\u2019 windows, meaning the wind in Dirksland carried shards of glass in it. Debris from buildings and people that had collapsed came at me from the East. My vision got a little cloudy. The last thing I saw was Dirkslanders solemnly declaring that no, they would not eat all the food they had on their plates.<\/p>\n

Pride is a curious emotion, isn\u2019t it?<\/p>\n\n\t

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Lees meer<\/h2>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\t